Escape from Hell
by KittyBird22
Summary: Alex discovers that a new organization are out to get MI6 and expose them. John and Yassen are here to rescue him from MI6 and use him to take them down. What will happen to Alex? Will MI6 win, or be burned to the ground?


Ch 1: Visitors

Alex was sick and tired of playing solider for MI6. So he gave up. He offered Blunt a deal. Give him pay, his uncles house, allow him to live on his own, and a gun. If Blunt agreed, Alex would work for him willingly. It was a deal with little negotiation. Two years later, Alex completed 3 more missions for MI6 and acquired good pay for each of them.

Now, the 16 year old lay in his bed trying to overcome his restlessness. The teen tossed and turned in his bed and glanced at his watch. _2:12 AM._ The boy sighed and curled up under the covers and closed his eyes. Lucky for him he could sleep in if need be. Tomorrow was Saturday, a free day for teens to laze about and relax. Alex usually spent that day trying to catch up on sleep. His sleep usually was plagued with nightmares, causing him to shoot out of bed screaming in fear and pain, clutching the scar on his chest. The dreams seemed to only get worse and worse over the years.

Just as the exhausted teen was about to drift off, a loud knock came from the front door downstairs. Alex growled as he was roused from his half sleep and sat up. _Who could that be this early in the bloody morning?_ The teen was about to go back to sleep when the knock came once more, this time louder and more persistent. Alex sighed in exasperation and stood up, leaving the cozy, warm covers behind.

He grabbed his handgun and stormed downstairs, his steps silent even with his anger. The teen didn't care about his attire of loose PJ pants and T-shirt. He whipped open the door angrily, ready to tell off whoever was at the door at this ungodly hour. But the words were caught in his throat and he froze in shock at what he saw.

John. John Rider, his _dead father, _stood in the doorway. He looked like Alex expected, sharp, toned, tall with stormy grey eyes and short cropped brunette hair. (He got his brown eyes and blonde hair from his mother, Helen.) Alex gaped at his father, his caramel eyes wide with shock. John tilted his head to the side taking in the sight of his son.

Alex had filled out some and grew a few inches taller. His blonde hair was cut neatly and well groomed. The teen's eyes looked frighteningly dead. Those eyes had seen too much, though looking shocked, they looked as if they had seen the death of everyone on the planet. John looked his son up and down and saw the handgun hanging loosely in his son's right hand. He looked back at the teen's face, which had drained of color. Then again he was looking at the 'ghost' of his father.

John shook his head and smiled. "My, my Alex, you have grown. You look much like I did when I was your age, just with your mother's hair and eyes."

Hunter gasped as Alex dropped the gun, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed on his back. John lunged forward to try and catch the teen, but he was too late. The boy hit the floor with a solid _thud, _and lay still. John sighed and crouched down next to his son, checking over him.

"Told you this would happen." A cool Russian voice said from the doorway.

"Ah shut up Cossack."

Yassen walked over and grabbed the front collar of the unconscious boy's T-shirt and dragged him in the darkness of the living room. He then tossed him unceremoniously on the couch. John shut the door and watched as Yassen tossed the boy about. "Hey! He's not a sack of potatoes Yassen! Mind his head will ya?"

"It's your fault he passed out." The assassin remarked coolly before sitting down in one of the chairs. John sighed and sat down in the other chair and watched his son sleep.

After a few moments Yassen cut the silence. "He's filled out quite nicely. There's no doubt he is your son Hunter."

"Yeah. He's growing up faster than I thought."

"Did you see his eyes?"

"Yeah. Dead as a doornail. What have they done to my boy?"

Yassen stood up. "That doesn't matter now. We are here to rescue him. We need him for R.I.D.E.R." John stood also. "Ok, but if he wakes up in the car he's sure to panic Cossack."

"It won't be too hard to contain him." Yassen said as he pulled the boy up, one arm in the bend of his knees, the other supporting his shoulder blades. (Bridal style basically) John nodded and they both headed outside, leaving the boy's gun behind on the hardwood floor.

Outside, parked in the driveway, was a beautiful black Mercedes Benz. Yassen lay Alex in the backseat on his back, the circled around to the driver's side while John settled in the passenger seat. John buckled up and pestered Yassen until he too put his seatbelt on.

"Drive safely ok? Alex doesn't have a seatbelt on." John said worriedly, looking back at his son as the Russian started up the engine and backed out. Yassen just smirked and revved the engine loudly and burned down the street, tires screeching on turns dangerously. All while a panicked father screamed and cussed at Yassen to slow down.


End file.
